


Mail Order Wo-man

by orphan_account



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Gen, M/M, Romance, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9661424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In this Alt Verse humans are mutating some born both make and female like hermaphrodites. These exotic creatures are shunned publicly and desired by the sex trade. Ianto Jones was adandonned at birth and has lived her entire life at the orphanage as familes reject her once they learn her secreret. This is her last chance but will Jack want her?Romance no smut until last chapALT VERSE people ...





	

N E W EARTH

Ianto Jones sat outside Mrs. Hartman's office and listened in horror to the conversation going on inside. Though the door was closed, she could still make out the bulk of the argument as Mrs. Hartman and someone called Adam battled it out. She had no idea why they would be arguing about her, but she'd caught enough to conclude that that was exactly what they were doing.

Ianto had arrived with a letter of recommendation written by Mrs. Myfanwy, the head of the Myfanwy Orphanage. Once she turned eighteen, she had been given a choice: find respectable work in New New Orleans, or find it elsewhere. "Elsewhere," in this case, meant becoming a mail order bride to some far-off settler or farmer thousands of miles away. As she hadn't been able to find any sort of decent work in the New New York City – not a great surprise, as the city was only five years removed from the Universal War Between the planetary councils – she was forced to pursue what opportunities lay in the "elsewhere" category.

She jumped as Adam slammed a fist down on Mrs. Hartman's desk.

Would he harm the woman? What could he possibly be so upset about?

Just as she made up her mind to enter unannounced and interrupt the heated argument for the sake of Mrs. Hartman's safety, two huge Blu-man-chu men came storming up the stairs from the first floor of the building and did the interrupting for her.

"Get this vile man out of my sight!" Mrs. Hartman ordered as they burst into the room.

"You haven't seen the last of me, Vonnie! You can't keep putting me off forever!" the man called Adam spat. Ianto could see into the office, and shrank a little in her chair. He was tall and lean and had an ugly scar running down the left side of his face.

He glared at the two men, who had planted themselves one on each side of Mrs. Hartman's desk, and snarled. One of the men raised an amused brow as if to say _oh, really?_ then pointed to the door and took a threatening step forward.

"Indeed, Sean – please see Mr. Adam out. _All_ the way out," Mrs. Hartman stated firmly.

"With pleasure, ma'am!" said Sean, who now closed the distance to Mr. Adam.

Ianto quickly glanced toward the stairs and fought the urge to bolt in their direction as Mr. Adam stormed out of the office just ahead of the bigger man. He stopped right in front of her and glared, his eyes narrowed to slits. She didn't deem herself a great beauty – she was underweight, her blue eyes had dark circles under them from lack of sleep, and her shoulder length brown hair needed a good washing. Yet the man looked her over like she was some prized piece of expensive horseflesh before he licked his upper lip and smiled. He quickly bent to her and whispered, "I'll see you later, sweetling."

But before she could so much as blink an eye, he was yanked upright by Sean, who hauled him to the stairs and none too gently began to shove him down the stairwell.

Ianto gulped back her fear and chanced a peek at Mrs. Hartman, who now stood behind her desk, a firm look of resolve on her face, and motioned the other man to bend down so she could whisper in his ear.

When she was done giving him instructions, he smiled and strolled out of the office to Ianto.

"Mrs. Hartman will see you now, miss," he told her in a deep, pleasant voice.

"Th-thank you," she said as she gripped her satchel and stiffly stood.

A chill went up her spine at the odd snippets she'd overheard of Mrs. Hartman and Mr. Adam's argument. Did she dare ask what it was about?

From what she could make out, it almost sounded like Mr. Adam was trying to _buy_ her!

"Please sit down, dear. Solomon, stay outside the office until Miss

Jones is ready to depart, will you? Then I want you to escort her back to Myfanwy."

"It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Hartman." He smiled warmly before he turned to Ianto. "Whenever you're ready to leave, Miss Jones, I'll be right here."

Ianto could only give a solitary nod in return as he backed out of the office and closed the door behind him.

"Please, sit down," Mrs. Hartman told her.

Ianto sent her a weak smile and sat in an old chair in front of an equally old desk. In fact, the desk and chairs weren't the only things in

Mrs. Hartman's office that looked worn out. The rest of the furniture had also seen better days, and she noticed how the wallpaper was peeling in several places. But the office as a whole was clean and orderly, the windows and their curtains clean though frayed.

She briefly wondered if being there was such a good idea, and sent up a quick prayer that the state of Mrs. Hartman's office wasn't an indication of the people who utilized her mail-order bride service. Then, wasn't she in a similar state – poor-looking, feeling worn out, frayed, and with no place left to go? At least she was clean.

"I've searched my files and picked the applicant I think most suits you."

"Applicant? I thought I would get to choose between several."

Mrs. Hartman's face fell, and she clasped her hands in front of her on the desk. "The truth is, Miss Jones, I'm afraid we've only had one suitable gentlemen answer our advertisement so far. Of course you're welcome to wait until we receive more, but I wouldn't advise it. Not with you unique…situation"

Disappointment sunk hard and fast into Ianto's belly; her insides knotted up with pain as she knew Hartman was referring to her being of both persuasions. "But what if … what if I don't care for the gentleman?"

Mrs. Hartman sighed heavily. "Miss Jones, the alternative you face is nothing I would wish upon anyone. I strongly advise you to take what we have to offer."

Ianto felt her feet go suddenly cold, as if her blood had ceased to flow through her veins, her very heart stopped by Mrs. Hartman's words.

"Alternative?"

"Miss Jones," Mrs. Hartman began with her voice stern. "Take this offer of marriage from…" She quickly looked at the papers in front of her. "…this Mr. Jack Harkness. He sounds like a wonderful man – and look, he even sent his picture."

She slid a small photograph toward her. Ianto picked it up to get a better look. It was cracked and faded – she could hardly tell what the man looked like! She turned it over to see if anything had been written on the back. Good heavens, was that _blood_?

"He has already sent train and Hopper fare …"

"What?!"

"It's something we ask for up front so we can get a bride out of … sorry, out _to_ their prospective groom right away, anxious as most gentleman are to get married." Mrs. Hartman gave her an imploring look at that point.

Slowly, Ianto began to put it all together. "What did that man …Mr. Adam … want with me?"

Mrs. Hartman closed her eyes for a moment. "Mr. Adam is a very bad man, Miss Jones. He's been a thorn in my side ever since the war ended and I started this business."

"But what did he want with me?"

The woman swallowed hard and looked at her. "We were business associates at one time, but I left after the war to do other things. More worthwhile things, such as helping young ladies as yourself find a better life than the one offered here."

Ianto gripped her satchel and stared Mrs. Hartman down. "What sort of business were you in?"

"I do not wish to discuss that. Ever. Let me just say your uniqueness would be…desired. Now, if you would read over the gentleman's application, we can proceed."

A tear came to Ianto's eye.

She could hazard a guess what that had been about, and understood what would happen if she turned down the one applicant Mrs. Hartman's mail-order bride service managed to get.

Clearly Mrs. Hartman was dealing with the unwanted, the women no other mail-order bride service would touch. After all, who wanted a dirty little orphan like herself with no idea of how to be a lady? Or a starving widow left alone because of the brutality of war? Or perhaps even a "soiled dove" desperate for a better life?

A woman who was also male?


End file.
